Death of a Friend, Loss of Innocence
by Jemina
Summary: JeanPaul reflects on the death of his best friend.


Death of a Friend, Loss of Innocence

Jean-Paul stared at himself in the mirror. He looked perfect, not a hair out of place, not a crease in his black suit, his tie was tight and straight, his face clean and sober and somber…everything was perfect. He hated it. What right did he have to look so composed on the outside when he was shattered within? It was for his father of course…it was always for his father. What daddy wanted daddy got. The only time he hadn't had to live up to his father standards had been when he was with Rose and _her_ father or the General. But that was gone now…she was gone. He still had General Fury of course, but what good was that without his best friend—without Rose?

His mind was frozen; he didn't want to believe it…didn't want to think she was gone for good. General Fury had told him that they hadn't found her body, that they were still looking for her and might be able to get her back home where she belonged…and he had to hold onto that hope. But where could she be? He knew Rose, she never would have let someone take her, and she was practically inseparable from John…if he had died so had she, but he still didn't want to believe it.

The longer he stared at his reflection, the more he hated it, and the more he hated himself. The boy in the mirror wasn't him; he wasn't this refined, cold, emotionless thing that stared back at him. He wanted to tear the tie from his neck, wanted to rip at his hair and scream…scream, and scream, and scream until his voice wouldn't let him scream any more. He wanted to let loose his grief and anger at the world…but he couldn't. His father would never let him. What daddy wanted daddy got. So he continued to stare, stony faced at his reflection, making sure he didn't slip, that he was still his father idea of perfect.

His dad's words when he had started crying at the news still rang in his head. "For crying out loud!" his dad had bellowed yesterday after the general had left. "She was just a girl, and they don't even know that she's dead yet! What are you crying over?" Jean-Paul had simply shaken his head; his father would never understand. "Then dry those tears now! You don't cry for any reason, and you don't cry over as small a thing as this! She was just another girl! There are hundreds of them out there!"

Rage boiled up inside the ten year old boy. How DARE his father say things like that about Rose! She was NOT just another girl! She was his best friend, the only girl that he could still talk to without her going all giggly and silly, the only girl that could easily take on and beat even the boys three years older than her…and the only person he could trust completely with his thoughts and feelings. Jean-Paul pivoted and kicked the mirror. The roundhouse was executed perfectly, just the way she had taught him, and he was satisfied to hear, and see, the mirror shatter under the force of his kick. Daddy wasn't going to be pleased. Good, he thought viciously, he can beat me into next week…I don't care anymore.

The door opened and Jean-Paul turned to see his father's face turn purple, but General Fury was right behind him…the beating would have to wait.

"Are you ready to go Jean-Paul?" the general asked, ignoring the broken mirror.

Jean-Paul nodded and went to the general, taking his offered hand. The helicopter ride was short, but the car ride took some time. Jean-Paul stared out the window in silence, knowing he was going to get it when he got home. His father sat rigidly on one side of him with the general across from them. He could feel the tension in his father and had to force himself to not cringe away. The day was sunny, the burial procession far too cheery for his taste…but Rose would have liked it. All the New Orleans tradition…she loved this city. If I had to loose her, at least she was in the place she loved the most when she left, he thought, forcing tears back when he couldn't help but remember the times he had spent with her here and how happy she had been, even her strange, cryptic friend he knew only as "goldilocks".

Finally the ride was over and he got somberly out of the car. He did his best to stay collected, tried not to let the tears escape, but as the priest spoke they leaked down his face anyway. A flash from the hill outside the cemetery caught his attention and looked up. "Rose?" But there was no one there. General Fury pulled him close to his side and Jean-Paul leaned into him, knowing his father wouldn't approve, but this once, even if it was JUST this once, what daddy wanted, daddy didn't get.


End file.
